Chapter 18 #2
“Some are fae … lesser fae. Some are not. Those are the ones you need to be careful of. They’re not evil. Not in the way you understand it. But you are new, and you are not fully fae or human. That will draw their attention, especially while Cairn is not here.”
She pauses for another sip of tea.
“Stay in your room tonight. I will ward it when I leave so only one of the Guard can come through in the morning. Don’t open the door, no matter what you hear.”
My fingers tighten around the goblet. “Do you mean I’m a prisoner here?”
“No. Not at all. But for now we need to be cautious. It’s for your safety, not ours.
If you see something outside the windows, don’t approach it.
As soon as dark falls, close the curtains.
If you hear any voices calling to you, they aren’t anyone you know.
Do not answer them. Some can mimic very well.
Even if you think it’s Cairn you can hear, it’s not him. He won’t return for a few days yet.”
I nod, my mind racing through the possibilities. Things in the walls. Things outside the windows. Things using voices that don’t belong to them.
“Don’t acknowledge them, Alleria. Don’t speak to them. They won’t be able to enter without your agreement. So if something sounds like us and asks you to open the door, don’t. Do you understand?”
“I understand.”
“Good.” She stands up and crosses to the door, opens it, then pauses on the threshold and turns back to face me.
“Rest tonight. Explore your quarters, but do not try to leave. I am two doors down, and Serath is in the room next to mine. Call out if you need us and the brownies will pass on your message. One of us will come. But the safest place for you tonight is inside these walls.”
“I will.”
She leaves then, and the door closes softly behind her.
I don’t move, thinking about everything Vessara said. Then the fire pops once in the hearth, and I jump hard enough to spill tea over my fingers. I set the goblet down, and cross to the window seat.
The sea fills most of the view, pale-crested waves ebbing and flowing.
Where I would expect the horizon to bring them together, there’s a shimmering mist that blends sea and sky.
The sky is the same violet I have been staring at since I woke on Vessara’s steed, and there is still no sun to be found.
How is it so bright without a sun?
I’m considering opening the door and stepping out onto the balcony, when there’s a soft noise behind me.
I turn to find Serath in the doorway.
“I called your name, but you were so focused on the sea you didn’t hear me.”
“I know the brownies will have left you some food, but I thought you might like something hot.” My attention shifts to the tray she’s holding, as she crosses to the low table and sets it down.
Steam rises from a bowl of stew, and my mouth waters.
Beside it, there’s a small round loaf, and a wedge of soft, yellow butter.
My stomach makes an embarrassing noise, and Serath laughs.
“That’s what I thought. Cold meats are all well and good, but when you’ve been in the saddle for as many hours as we have, it’s nice to have something a little more … substantial to eat.”
I cross back to the hearth and sit down. Serath takes the chair Vessara used. Reaching forward, I tear off some of the bread, slather butter across it, and dip it into the stew. I can’t stop the groan of delight when I bite into it.
“Thank—” I stop myself, face flushing. “I keep doing that.”
“You’ll learn. Eventually. Or you’ll end up with so many debts tied to you, you’ll spend the rest of your life paying them.” She takes in my shocked expression. “And as you’re now a part of the Nightwild Guard, that’s going to be a very long time … unless you get killed, of course.”
She says it so matter of factly that it takes a second for me to understand the words.
“Killed?”
“Everyone dies, Alleria. It’s not something to worry about. One of the benefits of being Nightwild is that you become harder to kill than most.” She leans forward. “Now, did Vessara explain about staying inside your room tonight?”
“She did. She said I might hear things, and I need to ignore them.”
“That’s right. Voices, tapping, scratching, footsteps. Sometimes laughter. They’ll use whatever they need to get your attention. They can’t get inside, but they can speak to you through the walls and the door. If you answer, it gives them a thread to pull at.”
“A thread?”
“A way into you. If Cairn were here, it wouldn’t be a concern. They all answer to him. Until he returns, we need to keep you safe however we can. That means staying in your rooms at night, and not wandering the keep alone during the day.”
“What will happen if I don’t ignore them?”
“That isn’t something you want to find out.” She gets to her feet. “I will see you tomorrow. Sleep well, Alleria.”
And then I’m alone again.
I finish off the stew, mopping up the remains at the bottom of the bowl with the bread, then drink the rest of my tea.
The room is warm. My stomach is full. The sky is still bright outside. I feel more relaxed than I have in longer than I can remember.
Maybe before my birthday, when I was still oblivious to the darker things happening in the kingdom. And yet, I don’t wish I could go back. I don’t want to unlearn any of it.
I look back at who I was and I like who I am becoming so much more. Even if I’m not what or who I thought I was.
I push to my feet. Serath and Vessara are right. I should try to rest and let my body recover from everything it’s been through.
I walk through the archway and into the bedroom.
It’s every bit as large as the sitting room.
The bed is wide and high, draped with a rich, dark purple fabric that catches the firelight from the bedroom hearth and seems to hold it.
An armoire stands against one wall, carved with the same creatures I noticed on the balcony’s guardrail.
Thick rugs cover the stone floor, and another huge window overlooks the sea beyond.
My fingers trail across the comforter as I pass the bed and walk through the second archway, leading into the bathing chamber.
I stop short.
The bath is sunk into the floor, large enough for three of me, and carved from the same veined black stone as the rest of the keep.
“I wonder how long it would take to fill.” I speak the words aloud, needing to fill the silence.
As soon as the words leave my lips, water begins to pour from a spout shaped like a creature’s head, with curved horns and a long, narrow muzzle.
I stare at it.
The keep appears to be listening.
I take a step back, but the water doesn’t stop. Steam fills the room, and a scent that reminds me of flowers in full bloom. My hands lift toward the laces of my tunic, the temptation to take the offered bath more than I can resist.
I undress slowly, and by the time I’m naked, the bath is full and the water has stopped on its own.
I step down into the water. Lowering myself, I rest my head against one edge.
The stone seems shaped perfectly for it, and the heat closes around me.
For one long moment I forget everything except how good it feels, then I reach for the soap that rests on the side and scrub my skin until it turns pink.
There is a row of stoppered bottles on a shelf near my head, and I take each one down, opening them and sniffing each one, until I find one I like.
I pour some into my palm and massage it into my hair.
The liquid soaps up under my fingers, and I have to rinse three times before the water runs clear.
Once I’m done, I climb out and discover a folded chemise lying on a bench I’m certain wasn’t before. It’s delicate, pale blue, and feels lighter than spider silk against my skin when I pull it on.
Nightward’s brownies have apparently decided I need clean clothes as well.
Walking back to the bedroom, the stone floor warm beneath my bare feet, I cross to the bed. The covers have been turned down. The sconces have dimmed, and the fire in the hearth has settled into glowing embers.
I almost say thank you, but stop myself before the words break free.
Climbing into the bed, I roll onto my side and face the window. Outside, the waves move endlessly beneath the violet sky. I watch them until my eyes grow heavy and sleep pulls me under.